


Secret Things

by reen212000



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-02
Updated: 2007-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-13 08:05:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/135025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reen212000/pseuds/reen212000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney McKay observes John Sheppard from afar. From Rodney's POV. Songfic challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret Things

_Was it something you said with your eyes shut?  
Was it something you should not have said?  
Was it something I needed to hear now?  
Did it come from that place in your head?_

 _The place where  
Nothing gets found  
The secret things  
I want to find out_

\-- Secret Things, by Ken Andrews

ooOoo

There are some things you can’t help watching. Car crashes. Traffic on a busy street. Airplanes streaking across the sky...

John Sheppard after a difficult mission.

What can I say? The man fascinates and infuriates me all at the same time. He is a walking conundrum, and as a astrophysicist, I can’t help being intrigued.

I watch Sheppard push around food on his plate while he listens to Major Lorne report everything that happened while he was gone. The colonel makes a few well-placed jokes, and his military grunts laugh. Ahh, yes. John Sheppard’s standard operating procedure. His way of saying ‘I’m fine, everything’s fine’, even though his eyes are saying something completely different.

The major has moved away, taking the others with him, leaving Sheppard alone. He finally gives up on food altogether, and scrubs a hand through his hair and over his face. I’m not exactly sure when the last time he slept, or eaten for that matter. I mean, seriously. How can a person subsist on water, two meals a week, and pure stubbornness.

As I come to sit near him, I wonder if he has caught me staring. If he ever looks up at me, I expect to see the calm, impenetrable mask slip into place. It’s a gift that he has, and sometimes I’m a bit jealous. To keep emotions in check like that makes me curious, but I know better than to ask about it.

Great. He caught me. _Now what?_

For a minute, Sheppard looks directly at me, and I see naked sorrow and regret. Usually, in an unguarded moment, frustration and occasionally anger will take up residence on his face. But not this time. His eyes are unfathomable pools of pain and sadness, and I have to look away. It throws me so badly, that I’m the one who has to shutter my expression.

John Sheppard’s ever-changing hazel eyes act more like a mood ring rather than eyes that change with his clothing. In fact, I started mentally cataloguing everyday objects to compare with the color of his eyes.

For example: An empty wine bottle. The greenish gold color reminded me of the first time he took me flying in a ‘jumper. The only mood I could think of at the time was mischief. His eyes were the same color when he threw me off a balcony, and when he first activated the chair.

Another time, we were on a planet suddenly surrounded by hostile natives (Honestly, when are we not?). He raised his gun with one hand, pulling me behind him with the other. I watched him watch the Thunderdome extras, eyes sharp and green as the lush surroundings.

Then he confronted Kolya, and I still can’t find anything to compare those eyes to at all. While his eyes are flecked with darker greens, brown and gold, his rage made all of those colors stand out at once. They were fascinating, however, I never want to see those eyes again.

But the best and worse of the range of colors was the deeper green that accompanied the lopsided grin. He will always be a shameless flirt. Beguiling and illusory, those eyes made him look years younger. No matter how tired he was, how hurt, those eyes could turn on like a light. Women (and admittedly, some men) would do his bidding.

I can’t help but wonder if his eyes change because of all the things he won’t say. When he lets them, those eyes will speak volumes. All the horrible things he’s seen in his life, we’ll probably never know. Hell, I’m still trying to get a straight answer from him about the picture on his bedside table.

Today, however, his eyes are a dull greyish green. When he’s exhausted, even his eyes are too tired to change. The colonel looks like he wants to say something, but won’t. I wait patiently, but honestly, I am not a patient man. I try to give encouraging smiles and not pay too much attention to my quickly cooling food. If I fidget anymore, he will look away, and the moment will be lost.

Instead of looking away, he takes the intensity of his gaze down a notch. Still he says nothing. Seriously. He is giving me the creeps. Then suddenly he laughs, self-consciously at first, then onward to delirium. Shaking his head, he pulls the tray back toward him. The food is probably ice cold, but at least he’s eating something.

“What?” There are times when I should just shut up, but I can’t not talk. “You’re the one sitting over here all morose and brooding in the corner.”

The smile and the intensity of those eyes won’t turn off, and it’s unnerving. Sheppard finally looks at his decimated food, and I feel like I’ve lost something. “I’m not morose,” he says. Is he pouting?

“Well, you’re doing that whole rain cloud thing.” Okay, so it sounds a little like normal, but not quite. If I show any concern, he’ll leave. “Beckett ground you again?”

Sheppard shrugs, and goes back to playing with his food. “No, not really.”

“Then, what’s your problem? You can go out to the mainland tomorrow–”

“I’m tired, Rodney.”

There it was. Is that what’s bothering him? “Yeah, and...?” Why is he pissing me off? “I really hate to break it to you, but you’re not a machine. And if you were, even machines need to be turned off every once in a while.” I turn my attention back to my food. _Don’t leave. Don’t leave. Don’t leave._

“I guess.” Now he just looks like a twelve-year-old disappointed he couldn’t get that bike. “Wanna come with me?”

“What? No!” Again, my mouth works without my brain. “Do you know how much work I have to do? And now you want me to go on some joyride with you, Colonel? Not to mention you could do with a nap.”

His brows scramble to the top of his head. “Sorry, McKay. Thought you could use a break too.”

I shake my head. “I can take a break when a certain genetically enhanced someone would initialize some items.”

Again with the laughing, but now it’s reaching his eyes. “Tell you what. I’ll help you, if you come with me. Deal?”

He’s driving me crazy. “Fine, fine.” An idea pops into my head. I jerk my head towards the kitchen. “Use your charms and get us something sweet, preferably chocolate. Then we’ll go to the lab.”

Now he’s grinning like an idiot, and that haunted look has finally been banished. Sheppard still looks like he could use about a week-long nap, but he’ll probably fare better now. I have no idea why he hangs around me, no matter what I say to him. He walks quickly to the commissary kitchen, flashing eyes and tossing grins.

Sheppard returns with a bounty of cookies and two brownies.

I hate him.

“Let’s go,” he says, dragging me out of the mess hall. He’s fine, everything’s fine.

 _Did you want to look somewhat upset when  
I overheard thoughts you let slip  
From the shadows of time spent apart  
I’m on to your paranoid tricks_

 _The place where  
Nothing gets found  
The secret things  
I want to find out_

The End.


End file.
